


Batman, don't let your Robins grow up to be cowboys.

by TheAsexualKingoftheUniverse



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman and Robin (Comics), DCU, DCU (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Robin (Comics), Super Sons (Comics)
Genre: Gen, M/M, Sibling Bonding, bad costumes, batcow escapes and causes chaos, sibling hijinks, the TimKon is implied
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:55:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23521930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAsexualKingoftheUniverse/pseuds/TheAsexualKingoftheUniverse
Summary: Bat-Cow is on the run and the Bats have to catch her before Alfred and Damian return. However, there's just one tiny thing wrong here.None of them know a damn thing about cattle.
Relationships: Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent
Comments: 33
Kudos: 302





	Batman, don't let your Robins grow up to be cowboys.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so arguably I was working on a WIP for another of my BatFam series, but then the COVID-19 thing happened and long story short I am stuck on the family ranch 4,000 miles away from my university for the time being. Some people may have dealt with this by actually doing their schoolwork, but I elected not to and instead decided to be inspired by my glorious surroundings. AKA my neighbour's cattle.
> 
> I think I actually got the idea for this fic like six months ago and then never wrote it but hey here it is.
> 
> Title is from the song "Mammas Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up To Be Cowboys." It was written by Ed Bruce. This is a fact I learned from Wikipedia five minutes ago because to be frank I'd only ever heard the Waylon & Willie version. Shout out to my mom for always playing that song when I was a kid and also letting me interrogate her for relevant information regarding cattle and how much they weigh. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Over the years, Tim had come to expect a certain level of insanity in his day-to-day life. Alien invasions, doomsday, sultans giving your best friend a spaceship, trying to run over Ra’s with a giant penny, accidentally killing Lady Shiva, et cetera. Newspaper articles praised the cool headed-ness of the young CEO, especially when he had unflinchingly continued to give a speech while Killer Croc and Red Hood were fighting behind him.

So it was fairly safe to say that Tim wasn’t really phased by much anymore.

He was, however, very phased by the cow staring at him through the window.

“B,” he said, “is there supposed to be a cow in the rose garden?”

“A what in the where?” Bruce asked, stumbling over to look out the window with him.

“No,” he said, “there is not supposed to be a cow there.”

“Huh. Whack.”

The two men stood there in exhausted silence for a few minutes, staring at the cow licking the windows.

Dick came home, clattering into the kitchen as he tossed his things around. He was chattering incessantly, as he was a morning person.

“…and Dami has a presentation today, don’t tell him but I think he’s nervous for it, and h- what’re you guys doing?”

“Watching the cow,” answered Tim.

Dick came over.

“Uh, isn’t the cow not supposed to be there?”

“Yup,” said Bruce before taking a sip of his coffee.

“…Are you guys going to do anything about it right now?”

“Nope,” said Tim, also taking a sip of his coffee.

“I…really feel like we should do something about this. Timmy, you’re our strategist. What do we do?”

Tim took another sip and stared at the cow with a look he usually reserved for Ra’s al-Ghul.

“Okay, get this,” he said after a minute. “None of us have any experience with cattle, right? So, let’s call someone who does, like Clark.”

Bruce stiffened, somehow becoming taller despite having impeccable posture at all times.

“We are highly trained vigilantes,” he said stiffly. “If we can handle Killer Croc, I think we can handle a fucking cow.”

Tim rolled his eyes.

“That’s a bit melodramatic, don’t you thi-”

“He’s right,” Dick interrupted, “We’re men of honour, men of pride. We don’t have to call Superman to save us from a cow. We can do it ourselves.”

“…Are you fucking kidding me, Dick?”

“Dick, I’m issuing an all-hands order. You go call Jason in, make sure he comes over. I don’t care what you have to give him in return. Tim, you go to try to find some sort of rope we can use to lasso the cow.”

“You guys aren’t even listening to me, are you?”

“B, what are you going to be doing?”

“I,” Bruce said, with the tone and expression of a man going to the gallows, “will be attempting to figure out how to wash cow saliva off of Alfred’s favourite stained glass window.”

* * *

Jason was trying to make Korean whipped coffee when Dick called him.

He missed the call at first, too obsessed with trying to count the strokes as he whipped the coffee, but eventually the sound of “Sharp Dressed Man” (it was _ironic_ , see) became too annoying to ignore.

“Whatta ya want, Dickface?” Jason answered, not even bothering to quit whisking his coffee.

“Bruce has called an all-hands to the manor. It’s an emergency.”

“Who’s dying? Who’s dead? Do you need my live ammo or my-”

“Everyone’s fine, Jay, sorry, I shouldn’t have been so dramatic. Damian’s cow got loose in Alfred’s gardens.”

“Demon Brat’s _what_ now?”

“Cow, Jason, get with the times here. We need you at the Manor to help round her up before Alfred gets back from Errand Day.”

“Hell no. What’s in it for me?”

“…Getting to watch Trust Fund Babies Bruce and Tim try and wrangle a cow?”

Jason started cackling.

“Dickie-bird,” he wheezed, “you’ve tempted me. Not enough to make me not finish my whipped coffee, but enough to switch over to using my mixer. I’ll be there with bells on within the hour.”

* * *

After Jason hung up on him, Dick made his way down the hall towards the utility closet to search for Tim.

The door was ajar and slid open silently on well-oiled hinges as Dick pushed on it.

Tim was jammed into the corner of the utility closet, phone against his ear.

“C’mon, Kon, pick up,” he muttered.

Dick leapt forward, snatching the phone out of Tim’s hand.

“Bloop,” he said.

Tim startled.

“Dick, give it back!”

“Calling the boyfriend in, huh?”

“We aren’t dating, fuck you!”

“I can’t believe you want to call in a _Midwesterner_. Timmy, what happened to family pride?”

“Oh, fuck off, I don’t have any.”

“Timmy,” Dick whined. “C’mon, chasing down a cow together will be fun! Besides, we have so many skills, we’ll be great at this!”

“…Ugh, fine. You win. Can I have my phone back now?”

Dick got that terrible, terrible contrary look that he usually reserved for his villains on his face.

_Smash!_

“Dick!” Tim shrieked, staring aghast at the shattered ruins of his cell phone lying on the cold cement floor.

“I’m sorry,” Dick wailed, wringing his hands. “I’m sorry, I panicked and I just kinda…chucked it? It was instinct. But, hey, at least you won’t be distracted by calling your boyfriend while we catch the cow?”

“He’s not my boyfriend!”

“Besides, you can just build yourself a new one. Now, c’mon, little brother, let’s go find some rope to lasso us a cow!”

“Yee-haw,” Tim grumbled, letting Dick throw an arm over his shoulders and start marching him towards the basement.

* * *

When Jason finally arrived, Tim was sitting outside on the front step, clearly sulking.

“What’s wrong, Timpani?” Jason said.

Tim looked up from under a curtain of greasy depression haircut.

“Dick broke my phone.”

“Why?”

“I tried to call Kon for backup.”

“Ah, getting saved by the super-boyfriend like a damsel in distress.”

“Not my boyfriend.”

“Is too.”

“Is not.”

“Is too.”

“Is not.”

“Is t-”

“FUCK.”

The two stared at each other, stunned by the distant yell.

“That was Bruce?” Jason guessed.

“Yup,” replied Tim.

"Now, listen, I’m not normally the one to ask this, but should I be concerned about him?”

Tim shrugged.

“He’s trying to get a cow out of a rose garden,” he said. “How tits-up can it go?”

* * *

Bat-Cow had munched on the Juliet Rose.

It was Alfred’s favourite rose.

Bruce was standing, frozen and pale, staring at the damaged beauty as Dick chased the cow around the walled garden, screeching and waving his arms.

“Oh, shit,” swore Tim.

Bruce turned to them.

“Hello, boys,” he said gravely. “I’m going to be drawn and quartered.”

“Not to worry, B-man,” Jason replied cheerfully. “And yes, that _did_ mean BitchMan. I have brought to you today the finest assortment of my tranquilizer darts, tested out on only the finest of Gotham’s Rogues.”

“You’re not shooting the fucking cow. For one, Damian would kill us, and for another, you’re going to miss and shoot someone.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, I’m a great shot.”

Jason pulled out his gun. Tim ducked behind the water feature’s wall. Bruce ran towards Jason, trying to snatch the gun away. Dick, who had not noticed any of this happening, continued chasing the cow.

Jason fired.

Bat-Cow dodged.

Dick went down.

“Dick!” Bruce yelled, “Jason, quit it!”

“That is not my fault.”

“Keep firing, Jason!” Tim shouted from behind the safety of the wall.

Jason raised his gun again and fired, this time hitting the cow. She managed to run a few more feet before falling over.

“Got her!”

“Good job, Jason,” Tim replied, vaulting over the wall. “Now, let’s move this girl back into her pen and hope Damian doesn’t notice we drugged her.”

“Boys, your brother is unconscious!” Bruce exclaimed.

“So? That bitch is always passing out, we get knocked out all the time,” Jason dismissed. “Now, Timmy, how does one lift a cow?”

“…Fuck.”

“What?”

“I just checked her weight in the family database. According to her last vet visit, she weighs 1,157 pounds,” Tim said.

“…Well, I can’t lift that much, and unless you’ve been keeping a lot of things from us, you sure as hell can’t lift that much.”

“I’m calling it here, Jay, we biffed it.”

“Yeah, my bad. Guess we should have asked questions first, shot later, eh?”

“Did you even change your darts out?”

“…No?”

“So she’ll be waking up soon,” Tim muttered.

“I think it’s time for plan B,” said Bruce.

“And that is?”

Bruce stayed silent.

“He doesn’t have one,” Tim explained to Jason. “Bruce, just go take Dick down to the med-cave and fuss over him there. We’ll handle the cow and call you if we need you.”

Bruce stood up, picked up Dick, and walked away, giving Jason and Tim a wary look the entire time. Once they’d disappeared inside the house, Tim turned to Jason.

“Now that we’ve gotten rid of those two like I planned, can we please do the sensible thing and call in someone with experience?” he pleaded.

Jason grinned.

“Sorry, kid, but you just went straight from the frying pan and into the fire. C’mon, get your little twink ass in gear. We have an old Halloween costume to find in my room. You’re about the same size as I was when I died.”

“I wish I’d bled out when you’d slit my throat,” Tim yelled as he was tossed over Jason’s shoulder and carried into the house. The larger man just laughed, stepping over the sleeping cow on his way in.

* * *

“This is dumb,” Tim protested weakly. “This is dumb and this is not going to work.”

“Maybe,” Jason conceded. “But it will be funny as hell.”

The front door opened and Duke walked in.

“Hey guys, Bruce called and said it was an emergency and that Dick was down? And, uh, Tim, why are you in a cow costume?”

“Bat-Cow’s on the loose and Jason’s being an asshole.”

“Did Dick get gored?”

“No. Jason shot him with a tranquilizer dart.”

Jason grinned.

“I thought it was an accident but apparently Timmy here planned it.”

“…Maybe so. Look, can I take this fucking thing off already?”

“No,” Duke said. “It’ll at least make a good distraction for the cow.”

“I hate you people,” Tim muttered. “I should have let Selina take me in.”

“Butcha didn’t,” Jason taunted.

“Yeah, should have thought about that before you devoted your entire life to making sure that Batman stays sane,” Duke said.

“Fuck. YOU.”

“No thanks. I don’t go for twinks.”

“You know what I meant, Duke!”

“Sorry, Timmy, we’re not letting you get out of being a bovine distraction. Maybe you should have been faster about calling your boyfriend,” teased Jason.

“HE. IS. NOT. MY. FUCKING. _BOYFRIEND_.”

“Keep telling yourself that, Tim,” said Duke, “and maybe one day it’ll sound believable.”

* * *

Meanwhile in San Francisco, Kon was staring at his phone.

“Dude,” Bart said, “You’ve been staring at that thing for, like, an hour. Are you waiting for a call or something?”

“…Not exactly. Tim called me earlier and won’t return my messages.”

“He could be asleep. It’s still early for the Bats.”

“Well, yeah. But he also didn’t send me the usual text.”

“…The what?”

“You’re gonna think it’s weird.”

“No, I won’t.”

“You will.”

“I won’t.”

“Okay, fine. I purposefully take really bad Instagram pictures and post them so that Tim sends me angry rants about my bad pictures.”

“…Why?”

Kon mumbled something.

“What was that?”

“Fine. It’s part of my plan.”

“What plan?”

“…My five-year plan to slowly make Tim fall in love with me by making him so annoyed by my bad Instagram pictures that he bullies me into letting him take all my Instagram pictures and then discovers I’m hot?”

Bart stared at him.

Kon winced.

“Too weird?” he asked.

“You came up with an entire evil plan to seduce Tim but you can’t even remember to buy groceries?”

“That’s different! I’m invested in dating Tim! I’m not invested in groceries!”

“You need to eat! You don’t need a boyfriend!”

“I do need a boyfriend! I’m pining, Bart!”

“And, evil plans aside, you can have some compassion for innocent speedsters who ran out of money for the month because they bought parts for their spaceship and need groceries!”

“Look, Bart,” Kon yelled, “this is not an ‘evil plan,’ this is a long-term seduction that will lead to a long-term relationship and happiness for all parties- why are you shaking your head at me? Do you know something I don’t? Is he in a relationship? Oh, fuck, I’m a homewrecker, aren’t I?”

“No, dude, you’re just in denial. Like, this is so an evil plan.”

“It’s not an evil plan!”

“Can it, you two!” Cassie yelled, flying into the room, “You’re interrupting movie night.”

“It’s literally ten in the morning.”

“Fuck off, Conner.”

“…Noted.”

“What’s this about an evil plan?”

“Kon wants to date Tim but he’s a coward so instead he’s tricking Tim into hanging out with him so instead Tim will ask him out.”

“Bart!”

“Hey, it’s true!”

“So, Kon’s a coward, what else is new?”

“Hey!”

“Tim didn’t send him his morning text.”

“Ooh, a morning text.”

“It’s not like that, Cassie.”

“You’re blushing.”

“Am not,” Kon said, clearly blushing.

“Tim’s probably just asleep,” Cassie replied, “You know how he is.”

“That’s what I said!” Bart cried.

“He also called me this morning and now his phone is saying that the service is disconnected or something,” Kon said.

“What?” Bart said, “Dude, you told me he just wasn’t answering. That’s _way_ more concerning.”

“Sorry.”

“So, Tim’s missed something on his usual schedule, called you, and then his phone’s offline?” Cassie said.

Kon nodded.

“…Yeah, screw this, we’re headed to the manor. We’re gonna find out why our overly fearless leader is acting so weird. We roll in five.”

“Why not now?” Bart asked.

“Because I have to finish my coffee.”

* * *

“I still think this is a stupid idea,” Tim said. “Why do you even have a cow costume, Jason?”

“I had to buy a last-minute costume from Party City because my authentically made Mr Darcy costume wasn’t finished yet.”

“Oh, were you hand sewing the entire thing? I’ll profess I’m more of an 1870s man myself,” said Duke.

“Yeah, I was, actually. You know what? You should join the historical sewing discord server I’m on, it’s great.”

“Hell yeah, dude, that sounds awesome.”

“Uh, guys? Sorry to interrupt this nerd-gasm of epic proportions, but, like, is the cow supposed to be angrily pawing the ground and snorting at me?” Tim said over the comms from the other side of the field, where he had been placed as bait.

The others turned. Sure enough, that was what Bat-Cow was doing.

“Uh,” said Duke, “Maybe that’s how you say hello in cow?”

She began to charge.

“I think that _is_ how you say hello in cow, provided you’re real, real mad,” replied Jason. “Timmy, you might want to run.”

“No, don’t, that might make her angrier!” yelled Duke.

“But this will get him gored!”

“Fuck it,” Tim replied, “I’m jumping over the cow.”

While they had been bickering, Tim had yanked off the cow costume, leaving it collapsed in a pile. He relaxed his body and, with the cow’s horns a foot from his stomach, set his hand on her head and vaulted over her back, ignoring his brothers’ cries of “What?” and “Tim, are you fucking crazy?”

He rolled as he landed before leaping up and throwing his hands in the air in triumph.

“Yooooooooo,” he yelled at the other Robins.

“Yooooooooo,” they yelled back.

The cow charged again. Tim dodged this time, rolling out of the way.

“This feels like bullfighting,” Duke said. “But, like, cowfighting?”

“Yeah.”

“…Should we try to help him?”

“Nah, it looks like he has everything handled.”

“I can hear you, you jackasses,” Tim yelled over the comms as he took off towards the lake, the cow hot on his heels.

They looked at each other, shrugged, and began chasing after him.

“You’re going in the wrong direction, Tim, you have to lead her to the barn! The barn!”

“I DON’T KNOW WHERE THAT IS.”

“It’s, uh, it’s…Duke, do you know where the barn is?”

“No.”

“Well. Sorry, Timmy.”

“Fuck you guys.”

They kept running until they reached the shores of the lake, where Tim jumped into the water.

“Good luck catching me now,” he yelled, treading water. “Cows can’t swim.”

The cow jumped in the water, too.

“Oh, shit,” Tim yelled, fear in his eyes.

Suddenly, Bat-Cow was lifted out of the water by an invisible force.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to be in there, girl,” said Kon. “Oh, hey, Tim. How’s the water?”

“Kon! You have the cow! Quick, put her in the barn!”

“Okay, where is it?”

“…Good question.”

“Aw, Tim, you called your boyfriend?” Jason complained. “That’s lame.”

“Shut up, Jason, I didn’t call him.”

“We came on our own because we couldn’t get a hold of Tim,” said Cassie.

Bart screeched to a halt in the sand.

“I found the barn!” he yelled. “Oh, and Cheetos. I also found Cheetos.”

“Oh, yay. Now we can finally put the cow away and be done with this,” Tim said.

They made their way over to the barn, following after Bart.

“Tim,” Kon said, brow furrowed. “This…this can’t really be your barn, is it?”

“It has ‘barn’ written on it,” Tim pointed out.

“This…this is too funny. I’m calling Clark.”

“Duke, get B,” Jason whispered. “He’ll want to be here if the Kryptonians are acting suspiciously.”

Duke nodded and slipped away.

“What do you think is up?” Jason asked Tim.

Tim shrugged.

“Maybe it’s an ugly colour?”

“I mean it is kinda drab,” said Cassie.

“Yeah, this building has no soul,” Bart commented before shoving another handful of Cheetos in his mouth.

“Look, dude, I don’t know what you want from us. We didn’t build the barn,” Tim said. “I actually have no idea who built this barn.”

“Yeah, I didn’t even know we had a cow until today,” said Jason.

“Moo,” said the cow.

“Oh, you poor darling, have they been neglecting you?” Kon fretted.

“She’s Damian’s cow.”

“I don’t care whose she is, Tim, this barn is disgraceful.”

“In an ‘actually a danger to the cow’ way or in an ‘I have opinions about barns’ way?”

Kon was silent.

“That’s what I thought,” grumbled Tim.

* * *

Bruce arrived a few minutes later with a still-woozy Dick by his side, who was being supported by Duke.

“Clark, why are you at my house?” he barked.

“Why do you have such a trash barn?” Clark countered.

“The magazine said it was fine.”

“Bruce,” Clark said, exasperated, “This is _cement_. As in the walls are _cement_.”

“So?”

“So? So, what if she kicks it and breaks her leg?”

“Bat-Cow is very intelligent,” Bruce said. “I am sure she would do no such foolish thing.”

“She’s a cow. They do dumb things sometimes.”

“…Fine. Are there any other problems with my barn?”

“It’s the noisiest kind of roof. It rains a lot in Gotham. Also, the fence is plastic. _Plastic_ , Bruce, _plastic_.”

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

“What do you suggest to fix this?”

“Let us take the cow to the farm. She’s probably lonely without other cows, and we can take good care of her. Plus, this way Damian can still come visit her on weekends.”

“…Well, I’ll have to talk to Damian about it,” Bruce said, resigned to having to deal with an upset child that evening.

“I am here, Father,” Damian said, dropping out of a tree. “I have, in fact, been here the entire day.

“…Damian, please explain.”

“I had grown concerned about Bat-Cow’s lack of social interaction with her own kind, and with the impact of the toxic Gotham ecosystem upon her. Therefore, I was planning to request her be moved to the Kents’ farm anyway, but this morning I noticed she had escaped and decided to ignore it, presuming that you would be ‘fed up’ with the escaping bovine and demand she be sent away.”

“Damian, I would never do that to any of your pets.”

“…Clearly I miscalculated, Father, but you are discounting the other reason why I allowed her to continue on her quest this morning.”

“And what might that be?”

“I thought it would be funny.”

Bruce blinked.

“I always forget that he’s, like, actually twelve,” Duke muttered to Jason.

“I know, right?”

“There was also a third reason.”

“…Go on, Damian.”

“Oracle offered me fifty dollars if I did not assist you in retrieving Bat-Cow and permitted her to firm the entire sequence of events.”

Everyone groaned.

“Of _course_ she did,” Tim grumbled.

“But, wait,” Dick protested. “Dami, you said you had a presentation in class today and asked me to drive you to school.”

Damian snorted.

“Oh, Grayson, you fool. Today is Saturday.”

“… _Fuck_.”

“I’m impressed, brat,” Tim said. “But I’m sceptical of your reasoning. All of those are good reasons, sure, but I’ve never seen you voluntarily do anything for the fun of it.”

“Exactly. You see, three days ago I heard you speaking to Hood while on patrol. You specifically stated that I was incapable of ‘having a good time.’”

“Oh, you son of a bitch.”

“That’s right, Dr-” Damian caught sight of Bruce’s glare as he spread his arms wide to gesture at the assembled chaos- “Timothy. This is me. Having a good time. In fact, this is me having an _excellent_ time. Because I can have fun, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked the fic! As always, feel free to chat with me on [Tumblr](http://asexualkingoftheuniverse.tumblr.com) (though I will warn I am less active on there nowadays).

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Kon Saving Tim From Batcow](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24026659) by [Newregistration](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Newregistration/pseuds/Newregistration)




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